Frodo's Torment
by Laureloth
Summary: Frodo's wound by the Witchking affected all his senses... read about his torment from his own POV.


A/N: This is a story I wrote a while ago. It's told from Frodo's POV. It's more of a representations of what I think his feelings would have been like after he was stabbed by the Witchking than an actual, coherent story. Also, it's based on the movie-version of events, for continuity's sake. And as always- I do not own any of the characters- they're from the incredible mind of J.R.R. Tolkien. ;-) Enjoy, and don't forget to review it!  
  
Frodo's Torment  
  
Pain. All I feel is pain. Pain, and cold. A searing, icy cold that devours any part of me that its chilling fingers can reach. It's as if I've been submerged into the very deepest depths of the great Sea, and left there alone and afraid and bitterly cold. I can feel the icy cold spreading from my left shoulder, where it first pierced me. Already I cannot feel my arm; it is far too numb. I am tormented by the pain. I try to stay alert but it overcomes me, and crying out, I slip into a pain-driven unconsciousness.  
~  
When I awake once more, Strider and Sam are by my side. Not knowing that I am conscious, my beloved and most trusted friend Samwise whispers to Strider of my state. Fear and apprehension are evident in his shaking voice.  
"How is he? What's happened to my master?" Strider grimaces and avoids the questions.   
I do not know what is happening to me. All I knows is the chill and the pain. And it is a strain just to breathe as I gasp to keep oxygen in my lungs. I find myself struggling, and I begin to wonder if it is really worth it... it's such a painful effort. But I am too weak to think clearly.  
I can still hear voices, but it seems like they're coming from a distance, like my friends are growing farther away by the minute. And now- now I feel as if I am spinning; spinning and descending into another world. A world of eternal pain and the everlasting desire for *something*; a desire stronger than I've ever known. But for what?  
~  
Now when I awake, I cannot see clearly at all. Dark and misty shapes, blurs of colors, hisses of sound are all I can discern in my fevered yet frozen state. But always I am painfully aware of something; of One thing.  
I do not know what I desire. But always, always the need for it is there; I am reminded of it every time I toss and turn in my unrestful sleep. It is this need that keeps me breathing. I must stay alive, if only to find the object of my desires.  
~  
Voices. I can hear them but they are faint and I cannot discern the words. Someone speaks... a voice I think I recognize but I cannot recall. Ever the cold is gnawing at me; taking all my senses and combining them into that strange desire for something.   
Moments pass. The voices fade. Suddenly, I am aware of a Light- something I haven't clearly seen in what seems like ages. It is emanating from a being that, strangely enough in this darkened haze that clouds my vision, I can clearly see.   
She is beautiful. She radiates this light, which washes over me and bathes me in its radiance. For a moment I feel hope; I feel stronger. She speaks to me now, in a strange tongue. It is lovely, yet it sears my heart and soul with pain. Why should something as pure as the light and the voice of this fair being hurt me? What am I becoming?  
Suddenly the light seems to fade and the cold and darkness I'd previously endured returns. Yet some good lingers in me. I have regained a sense of awareness. Voices- then something is pressed into my wound. It stings, yet I feel warmth return to my shoulder, blazing down my arm and driving away the retreating icy cold. Then I lapse into another state of unconsciousness.  
~  
When next I awake, I realize I am being held by the light-bringer. We are speeding over the land together, on a horse, and her arm holds me tight to her body. Suddenly I can sense that I am surrounded by other creatures. I sense their evil, yet I am drawn to them. Why? Why do I feel a strange kinship with these black souls riding so hard to catch up with me? I feel something scratch my face. It sears and burns but then I am struck with an epiphany; a realization. It's as if the black rider's touch has passed some of him into me, some of his evil, some of his knowledge, some of his soul. And I know what I blindly desire in the depths of my soul. I know what they desire. I know what He desires.  
The Ring.  
I know I am in possession of it. If I only deliver it to them... the pain will end. I will join them. I will belong with them and to Him, my Lord and my Master. And would that really be so terrible?  
~  
But I am weakened again. I possess not the strength to deliver the Ring to my pursuers. And then there is She- the one who is taking me to where I know not. And her presence; the very thought of her strengthens me. She whispers to me, and though I cannot discern the words, I feel heartened  
~  
We have crossed something, the Lady and I. A great barrier. The servants of the Dark Lord are crossing it now too. They are coming for me. My pain grows stronger. I am losing it as the pain grows and seems to fill every part of my body with a searing madness. My desire for the Ring grows stronger and now I know that I must let the Riders take it if only to let my soul rest. I know this is the end. I shall become one of them once they take the Ring from me. The Lady chants. I hear the waters around me rise. The pain rises to a crescendo within me. In my last moment of consciousness I hear screeching. Then-nothing.  
~  
Where I am I do not know. But I can rest. I am no longer hunted. I am being soothed and healed. My pain has gone now, for the most part. Words- words of healing are chanted and the touch of a master of healing soothes me. I drift into sleep once more and I realize that it is a sleep of my choice. Not an unconscious state of comatose caused by extreme pain. Sleep. Real sleep. Now, I can rest. I will recover. 


End file.
